Danny Boy

Oh, Danny Boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling,

from glen to glen and down the mountainside.

The summer's gone and all the roses falling;

'tis you, 'tis you must go and I must bide.

But come ye back when summer's in the meadow,

or when the valley's hushed and white with snow.

'Tis I'll be there in sunshine or in shadow.

Oh, Danny Boy, oh Danny Boy,

I love you so.

And when ye come and all the flow'rs are dying,

if I am dead, as dead I well may be,

you'll come and find the place where I am lying,

and kneel and say an Ave there for me.

And I shall hear, though soft you tread above me,

and all my grave will warmer,

sweeter be;

if you will bend and tell me that you love me,

then I shall sleep in peace until you come to so.

And when ye me.